crackin down on these motherf***in' rappers. again, not a new track, but new for you. On some crazy upbeat sh***. Classic MLov if you ask me
Eastcoast Anarchy Records...an ill ass crew of crazy motherfuckers tearin up the eastcoast smokin blunts, drinkin 40's and rappin
what up bitches. It's 2010 now, big deal. You'll get free new bangers as usual. so keep checkin in or catch me on myspace.com/420soldiers for updates.
Lyrics
You aint fuckin wit us dooogg - nooooo
We be fuckin wit the cuffs offf--- hooo
you see that money -- look and act funny
back up --- you neva gon' -- touch that honeyy
when you see me on the 'road doooon't --- blowww
yo horn -- cuz i dont -- showww folllks
no -- hope for sur-viv-al --- open yo' -- bible
and see that death, is the only way out nowwwww
Chemically dependant -- on a fuckin - drug in my mind
when this adrenaline is pumpin - you could tuck up a nine
and id ride -- up on you faggots -- turnin burners to ice cubes
and I aint like you -- I aint never scurred of a fight
but-I- might choose, to lightchu -- on fire -- and knife you
ig-nite you -- bitch -- shoulda learned it in -- high school
to not. fuck wit me -- cuz enough have seen
me puff some green, and snap, like a busted beam
up on these clown ass crackers -- the fact, is act backwards
ill Wraapp -- that fat- head and fuckin hang it from the rafters
with these syllables -- im mentally -- a case for the federally
capable of anything -- face it -- Im the Devil he--
sent me from the depths - to rep -- the full effect
of his wrathh, in a second -- you'll be burnin to death
and ima see you when I see you bitch -- know what i mean
Im gonna smoke that bitch - like Im smokin some weed
You aint fuckin wit us dooogg - nooooo
We be fuckin wit the cuffs offf--- hooo
you see that money -- look and act funny
back up --- you neva gon' -- touch that honeyy
when you see me on the 'road doooon't --- blowww
yo horn -- cuz i dont -- showww folllks
no -- hope for sur-viv-al --- open yo' -- bible
and see that death, is the only way out nowwwww
yo these cats can't see me, they aint fuckin wit rap
they fuckin wack son, lookin like they puffin some crack
and ima turn the tables on em dogg, quick and attack
my flows gas, shits flamable, your writtens are trash [STOP!]
you aint touchin me from 2, fuckin inches away
the mic is my blunt, my motherfuckin flow is the haze
i smoke it for days, for weeks -- maybe months at a time
i love dimes, weed, models, cheese -- all of em mine
cuz when i get this instrumental poppin' -- stoppin aint an option
optin outta all ya drama -- then i putchu in a coffin
gotta get it while its hott, not get caught up with the cops
and droppin faggots on the spot, when im poundin on the bottle
cock-sucker you aint fuckin wit me, my shits hotter
then the next top model, gettin down on her knees
you wantin some green, i got a fuckin pound of some weed
that'll rock, your fuckin top, gotchu knockin your teeth
cuz yer scurred -- yer nerves shot, if you wantin some beef
then ya beat, you fuckin weak, you dont want it wit me
...i got this murderous game, thats fuckin servin some pain -->
up, to these dirty motherfuckers that kickin dirt on my name
and ima rage on these faggots, fuckin turn em to flames
im insane, my shits cane, when you blowin it kay?
